


The Last Smile

by LeonoraChris



Category: NCIS
Genre: Alternate Ending, Angst, Depression, Drama, Gen, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide, Suicide Attempt, Tragedy, Two Endings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-26
Updated: 2014-03-26
Packaged: 2018-01-17 01:34:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,249
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1369075
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LeonoraChris/pseuds/LeonoraChris
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Don't let me do this... Why can't anyone save me? Why couldn't they see me?" He has come to the end of his rope. Now all he can do is wish that once this is over, he doesn't have to feel anything ever again. But what about those who are left behind? —Now with alternate ending.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Last Smile

**Author's Note:**

>   
>  _The story and any possible original characters are mine.  
>  NCIS, its own characters and canon aren't._

As he stood up and said goodbye, he didn't have to be a genius to know that they hardly paid any attention to what he had just said, or rather the _way_ he said it. All of them were too tired to care or too much into their own weekend plans. They had just finished their case. Reports were handed in. Everything was in perfect order and they had a whole weekend off, which was a rare treat for them and he knew each one of them was going to be taking advance of it in their own way.

Probie would be writing another chapter for that ridiculous book of his, then maybe play some games of his or do some other geeky stuff he would usually do.

Ziva... Well, he had heard her talking about how she would love to visit a 'friend' of hers, so that was most likely what she was going to do.

Abby would spend her weekend clubbing, or if the work called, at work.

Same thing with Ducky, and not the clubbing part. Dear old Ducky would spend the time taking care of his mother's grave.

Jimmy, the only one who _had_ noticed something was off with him today, but had been too busy to get the chance to ask about it. He would be busy with his studying. No free time for the poor guy. His friend. Perhaps they could have become the next Gibbs and Ducky, as far as their relationship went. Maybe better than that.

And Gibbs. Gibbs would... _Gibbs_... Boss would spend it in the basement, drinking bourbon and working on the boat. Maybe think about those he had lost. Would he become one of them, one of those many ghosts the man never wanted to talk about? Would Gibbs remember him like the others?

Would they forget him..?

In sudden agony, Tony muttered ' _bye_ ' for the last time and hurried to the stairs, instead of the elevator, not trusting himself to be in that small space with everyone else. By the time he made it half way downstairs, he had to sit down and try to breathe. He should have taken the elevator after all. His lungs couldn't handle this anymore. Every day was pure agony, just trying to keep himself breathing. No matter how impossible it sometimes felt like. Breathe in and breathe out. Constant mantra that he kept going in his head, by now most likely even in his sleep, when he could get any sleep.

Thinking his breathing was steady enough, Tony stood up and slowly made it downstairs. He was feeling dizzy and sick, and his throat... It felt like he was suffocating. Like he was slowly drowning on a dry land.

_God, please... Someone help me... Don't let me do this... Don't let me go through with it..._

Making it to his car, he noticed that everyone else had already left. Part of him felt relieved and the other part was disappointed, maybe even slightly hurt.

He drove slowly, not wanting to cause any accidents and bring anyone with him. No one else should have to pay the price for his weakness.

When he made it home, for a moment he wanted to give up and just call someone when he noticed the ' _out of order_ ' sign on the elevator, again. He couldn't do this anymore. More stairs. Why did he have to end up living in a place like this anyway? Or had he somehow known that it wouldn't matter, in the end? The way up was painfully slow and after already running all over the place all day—no, all _week_ —he was almost ready to pass out by the time he made it to his door.

Locking up the door, and after making sure it had been bolted up nice and tight—not like it mattered if someone did break in to steal and murder, but that wasn't why he locked the door—he walked in the kitchen to get something to drink. How ironic. He was going to kill himself and yet he was worried about how much he needed that drink. He was hardly surprised to find nothing in the kitchen so he had to settle for a glass of water, which wasn't even cold enough. Come to think of it, he was feeling rather hot. Or maybe cold? Wiping the sweat from his forehead, Tony staggered in the living room and put on a movie. His hands were shaking now and he realized he was crying.

_Don't let me do this... Why can't anyone save me? Why couldn't they see me?_

Taking his gun, he put it on the floor right next to his badge, which he had accidentally dropped from his numb fingers.

He had tried saying something to them. He tried to tell Gibbs what Brad had told him about the condition of his lungs, but the man had been too busy with other things. Work. The death of Jackie and Eli. Something else. Sure, he understood the pain, the loss and the anger. The need for revenge. But could they not spare just a little bit of their time for him? He had done his share, even followed Ziva in Berlin of all things, when he shouldn't have.

He couldn't help but wonder... Was this the price he had to now pay for a lifetime of mistakes, things he'd been unable to do, not being good enough, not being perfect? Bad lungs, which would ultimately kill him. And being the invisible, smiling and joking wallflower in that team of his.

He took the new bottle of pills from his pocket, which he had saved for this moment. "I'm sorry, Ducky... Please don't feel guilty for trusting me with these." Taking the pills with the water, Tony leaned forward to write down a short message, which he figured he should do, to not let anyone think a crime had happened. Although the now empty bottle of sleeping pills was a pretty good message already.

Lying down against the pillows on the couch, he stared at the movie on TV. After a while everything started to blur and then fade and he felt sleepy.

_Why couldn't they save me?_

He could have sworn he heard his mother's soft voice, singing a lullaby. One of her sober moments... With the ' _It's a wonderful life_ ' playing in the background, Anthony D. DiNozzo Jr. finally closed his eyes, with a sad smile on his face.

* * *

Spacing around the basement, Gibbs felt restless and there was painful twisting in his gut, as bad as it had felt before he knew what had happened to Shannon and Kelly. Throwing his bottle of bourbon against the floor, he took out his phone and pressed the speed dial. After calling each person he cared about and knowing they were doing just fine, he finally called the one person he for some reason had dreaded to call. And perhaps, had he called him first, things could have turned out differently.

" _You have reached very special Anthony DiNozzo's phone. Leave a message and I will call you back. Boss? If it's you, I'm sure I have a perfectly good reason to not answer."_

Waiting impatiently for the message to end, Gibbs growled, "DiNozzo! Answer your phone! _Please_. I need to know you're okay. Call me as soon as you get this, okay?" Ending the call, Gibbs felt that twisting feeling in his gut again and he stormed out of the basement, grabbing his car keys on the way, not caring that he'd been drinking. Not like he was even drunk. Although right now he almost wished he was.

While leaving his house, he called Ducky, "Ducky, I need you to go to Tony's place. Something's wrong... No, just a feeling I'm having. Really bad one... Yeah. I'll meet you there."

Breaking any speed limits he possibly could—and who knows what else as he took any insane shortcuts he could think of—Gibbs made it to Tony's place in record time. Scoffing at the ' _out of order sign_ ', he ignored the pain in his bad knee and started taking two—three—steps at a time as he raced upstairs. Taking out his spare key, Gibbs opened the door, only to notice it had been bolted up from the inside. Not even hesitating, he kicked the door open. Closing the door with gentleness that was so different from the angry kick before, Gibbs walked farther in the dimly lit apartment. "DiNozzo?"

Hearing a faint noise coming from the living room, Gibbs walked in there. He smiled when he saw his Agent sleeping on the couch, like a baby, and smiling in his sleep. "You really scared me there for a moment..." Turning off the TV, Gibbs noticed a piece of paper on the floor. Picking it up he squinted his eyes, trying to read it. The short message that stood on it, made his heart and blood freeze in fear.

_**'I can't do this anymore. I'm sorry.'** _

"Tony..." It was only then that Gibbs noticed there was no raising and falling of the chest, no soft breathing and Tony's skin was deathly pale. His hand was trembling when he moved it to check the pulse. No... There was no pulse... Deep down Gibbs knew that there was no hope, that he was too late, but he _had_ to try. He had to do something or he would break down like there was no tomorrow. Taking hold of Tony, Gibbs was shocked to notice how light the younger man was. When had he lost so much weight? "Tony... Come on... Don't do this to me..." Gibbs started giving CPR. Over and over again. He kept repeating the cycle until there was no breath left in him to do it.

"Please... Tony... Please..." he was pleading. Sitting on the floor, he pulled into his arms the unmoving form of the most important person after Shannon and Kelly, pleading and praying, "Please... Don't do this to me... I'm sorry... I'm sorry... Come on... Open your eyes, Tony..."

There were so many things left unsaid. So many things. _Important_ things... He'd been planning to take the man to someplace hot. On a beach, with bunch of those bikini women of his. He might have even been talked into wearing one of those hideous Hawaii shirts. He'd been planning it for weeks, knowing they both needed some rest from the work, among other things. He had waited too long...

When Ducky arrived, he was faced with an image that wouldn't leave him for the rest of his life. He had seen enough dead bodies in his life to know what had happened. One look and the old doctor knew what was going on. He didn't have to see the suicide note. He saw the way Anthony looked and the empty bottle of sleeping pills, which _he_ had given to the man, and the wide-eyed and wild look that Gibbs now wore, trying to wake the man who he was now cradling in his arms like he would a small child.

Ducky didn't let himself fall apart right now. He would only do it after he had done his work on their dear Anthony. He would not let anyone else touch him. It would only happen over _his_ dead body. Taking out his phone, Ducky started making phone calls, knowing that soon everyone would be here. Some of them perhaps even adopting Gibbs's driving style to get there fast enough.

Gibbs was unaware of anything else. He had finally broken down and his pleading turned into sobbing as he kept holding Tony in his arms. He couldn't do this again. He couldn't do this... Why hadn't they noticed something was wrong? Why hadn't _he_ noticed anything? Could they have stopped this from happening?

* * *

They had dressed him in his favorite suit. Abby had chosen to fill the coffin with flowers, surprisingly not going with any black roses, but instead finding all kinds of white and yellow flowers. Pure, bright and happy, she had explained. She was now crying uncontrollably while the priest spoke. She didn't hear a thing.

McGee was looking pale and very unsure of himself, with his arm over Abby's shoulders. He had very big shoes to fill and for the first time he realized he was not going to be able to do that. The shoes were too big for anyone to fill.

Ziva glanced at the surprise guest, DiNozzo Senior, who did not show any emotions. Perhaps he only cried in secret or he truly felt nothing at all. At least he had showed up.

Jimmy was sobbing openly, squeezing his glasses in his hands and Breena was holding her arms around him, trying to offer the comfort she knew she couldn't offer.

Ducky was sitting next to Jimmy. He wasn't crying, but his eyes were red and full of grief.

The funeral was big and extravagant and shocking amount of people had showed up. From old friends, frat brothers and even former girlfriends to former work partners, people from the Navy Yard, people Tony had helped and people he didn't even know. Even people like Vance, Tom Morrow and Fornell. They all had come to show their respect.

They were all too late...

The one who had paid it all was not there. He simply couldn't do it. Instead he had locked himself in his basement, drinking his bourbon in the middle of what used to be a beginning of a beautiful boat. Maybe he'll give up building boats...

"I'm sorry, Tony... We should've been there... _I_ should've been there..." Gibbs mumbled drunkenly.

Ducky—that old bastard—had taken his guns away from him and they all had cornered him, making him promise to not do 'anything stupid'. He had laughed and asked them if that's what suicide was called now. Sure, he had promised to not go and kill himself, but it didn't mean he would keep living his life though. He had already left the NCIS and now all he wanted was to drink himself numb.

He had failed watching Tony's six. He didn't deserve having anyone watching his.

They kept talking to him about getting some help. They didn't understand anything. He _didn't want_ any help! He was a bitter old man with nothing left to save in him. So he would keep on 'living', but no one could make him leave his basement. He had lost too much and the outside world would be too big of a reminder.

"I'm sorry, Tony... Shannon... Kelly... I'm sorry..." Closing his eyes, Gibbs started crying again. "I'm so sorry..."

**_The End_ **

* * *

_**Human life is a fragile thing. We are but flowers on the field.**_

_**We bloom and flourish and when the strong wind blows, we are no more.** _

_**Don't take your loved ones for granted. They are here today, but they might be gone tomorrow.** _

_**Don't take your own life for granted. We smile, hate, love and cry today, but tomorrow all those things are meaningless.** _


	2. Alternate

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As requested, here's the same story, but with different ending.

As he stood up and said goodbye, he didn't have to be a genius to know that they hardly paid any attention to what he had just said, or rather the _way_ he said it. All of them were too tired to care or too much into their own weekend plans. They had just finished their case. Reports were handed in. Everything was in perfect order and they had a whole weekend off, which was a rare treat for them and he knew each one of them was going to be taking advance of it in their own way.

Probie would be writing another chapter for that ridiculous book of his, then maybe play some games of his or do some other geeky stuff he would usually do.

Ziva... Well, he had heard her talking about how she would love to visit a 'friend' of hers, so that was most likely what she was going to do.

Abby would spend her weekend clubbing, or if the work called, at work.

Same thing with Ducky, and not the clubbing part. Dear old Ducky would spend the time taking care of his mother's grave.

Jimmy, the only one who _had_ noticed something was off with him today, but had been too busy to get the chance to ask about it. He would be busy with his studying. No free time for the poor guy. His friend. Perhaps they could have become the next Gibbs and Ducky, as far as their relationship went. Maybe better than that.

And Gibbs. Gibbs would... _Gibbs_... Boss would spend it in the basement, drinking bourbon and working on the boat. Maybe think about those he had lost. Would he become one of them, one of those many ghosts the man never wanted to talk about? Would Gibbs remember him like the others?

Would they forget him..?

In sudden agony, Tony muttered ' _bye_ ' for the last time and hurried to the stairs, instead of the elevator, not trusting himself to be in that small space with everyone else. By the time he made it half way downstairs, he had to sit down and try to breathe. He should have taken the elevator after all. His lungs couldn't handle this anymore. Every day was pure agony, just trying to keep himself breathing. No matter how impossible it sometimes felt like. Breathe in and breathe out. Constant mantra that he kept going in his head, by now most likely even in his sleep, when he could get any sleep.

Thinking his breathing was steady enough, Tony stood up and slowly made it downstairs. He was feeling dizzy and sick, and his throat... It felt like he was suffocating. Like he was slowly drowning on a dry land.

_God, please... Someone help me... Don't let me do this... Don't let me go through with it..._

Making it to his car, he noticed that everyone else had already left. Part of him felt relieved and the other part was disappointed, maybe even slightly hurt.

He drove slowly, not wanting to cause any accidents and bring anyone with him. No one else should have to pay the price for his weakness.

When he made it home, for a moment he wanted to give up and just call someone when he noticed the ' _out of order_ ' sign on the elevator, again. He couldn't do this anymore. More stairs. Why did he have to end up living in a place like this anyway? Or had he somehow known that it wouldn't matter, in the end? The way up was painfully slow and after already running all over the place all day—no, all _week_ —he was almost ready to pass out by the time he made it to his door.

Locking up the door, and after making sure it had been bolted up nice and tight—not like it mattered if someone did break in to steal and murder, but that wasn't why he locked the door—he walked in the kitchen to get something to drink. How ironic. He was going to kill himself and yet he was worried about how much he needed that drink. He was hardly surprised to find nothing in the kitchen so he had to settle for a glass of water, which wasn't even cold enough. Come to think of it, he was feeling rather hot. Or maybe cold? Wiping the sweat from his forehead, Tony staggered in the living room and put on a movie. His hands were shaking now and he realized he was crying.

_Don't let me do this... Why can't anyone save me? Why couldn't they see me?_

Taking his gun, he put it on the floor right next to his badge, which he had accidentally dropped from his numb fingers.

He had tried saying something to them. He tried to tell Gibbs what Brad had told him about the condition of his lungs, but the man had been too busy with other things. Work. The death of Jackie and Eli. Something else. Sure, he understood the pain, the loss and the anger. The need for revenge. But could they not spare just a little bit of their time for him? He had done his share, even followed Ziva in Berlin of all things, when he shouldn't have.

He couldn't help but wonder... Was this the price he had to now pay for a lifetime of mistakes, things he'd been unable to do, not being good enough, not being perfect? Bad lungs, which would ultimately kill him. And being the invisible, smiling and joking wallflower in that team of his.

He took the new bottle of pills from his pocket, which he had saved for this moment. "I'm sorry, Ducky... Please don't feel guilty for trusting me with these." Taking the pills with the water, Tony leaned forward to write down a short message, which he figured he should do, to not let anyone think a crime had happened. Although the now empty bottle of sleeping pills was a pretty good message already.

Lying down against the pillows on the couch, he stared at the movie on TV. After a while everything started to blur and then fade and he felt sleepy.

_Why couldn't they save me?_

He could have sworn he heard his mother's soft voice, singing a lullaby. One of her sober moments... With the ' _It's a wonderful life_ ' playing in the background, Anthony D. DiNozzo Jr. finally closed his eyes, with a sad smile on his face.

* * *

Spacing around the basement, Gibbs felt restless and there was painful twisting in his gut, as bad as it had felt before he knew what had happened to Shannon and Kelly. Throwing his bottle of bourbon against the floor, he took out his phone and pressed the speed dial. He almost chose to leave the most important one of them to be the last one, but deciding to not ignore his gut feeling, he was now calling him first.

" _You have reached very special Anthony DiNozzo's phone. Leave a message and I will call you back. Boss? If it's you, I'm sure I have a perfectly good reason to not answer."_

Waiting impatiently for the message to end, Gibbs growled, "DiNozzo! Answer your phone! _Please_. I need to know you're okay. Call me as soon as you get this, okay?" Ending the call, Gibbs felt that twisting feeling in his gut again and he stormed out of the basement, grabbing his car keys on the way, not caring that he'd been drinking. Not like he was even drunk. Although right now he almost wished he was.

While leaving his house, he called Ducky, "Ducky, I need you to go to Tony's place. Something's wrong... No, just a feeling I'm having. Really bad one... Yeah. I'll meet you there."

Breaking any speed limits he possibly could—and who knows what else as he took any insane shortcuts he could think of—Gibbs made it to Tony's place in record time. Scoffing at the ' _out of order sign_ ', he ignored the pain in his bad knee and started taking two—three—steps at a time as he raced upstairs. Taking out his spare key, Gibbs opened the door, only to notice it had been bolted up from the inside. Not even hesitating, he kicked the door open. Closing the door with gentleness that was so different from the angry kick before, Gibbs walked farther in the dimly lit apartment. "DiNozzo?"

Hearing a faint noise coming from the living room, Gibbs walked in there. He smiled when he saw his Agent sleeping on the couch, like a baby, and smiling in his sleep. "You really scared me there for a moment..." Turning off the TV, Gibbs noticed a piece of paper on the floor. Picking it up he squinted his eyes, trying to read it. The short message that stood on it, made his heart and blood freeze in fear.

_**'I can't do this anymore. I'm sorry.'** _

"Tony..." It was only then that Gibbs noticed there was no raising and falling of the chest, no soft breathing and Tony's skin was deathly pale. His hand was trembling when he moved it to check the pulse. No... There was no pulse... Wait..! There was, but it was faint. Too faint... Taking hold of Tony, Gibbs was shocked to notice how light the younger man was. When had he lost so much weight? "Tony... Come on... Don't do this to me... Don't do this to me..."

His hand was shaking when he took out his phone. He had just finished the call to the 911, when Ducky arrived. One look and the old doctor knew what was going on. He didn't have to see the suicide note. He saw the way Anthony looked and the empty bottle of sleeping pills, which _he_ had given to the man, and the wide-eyed and wild look that Gibbs now wore, trying to wake the man who he was now cradling in his arms like he would a small child.

"Please... Tony... Please..." he was pleading. Sitting on the floor, he pulled into his arms the unmoving form of the most important person after Shannon and Kelly, pleading and praying, "Please... Don't do this to me... I'm sorry... I'm sorry... Come on... Open your eyes, Tony..."

There were so many things left unsaid. So many things. _Important_ things... He'd been planning to take the man to someplace hot. On a beach, with bunch of those bikini women of his. He might have even been talked into wearing one of those hideous Hawaii shirts. He'd been planning it for weeks, knowing they both needed some rest from the work, among other things. Had he waited too long..?

As Ducky started doing what little he could, Gibbs was unaware of anything else. He had finally broken down and his pleading turned into sobbing as he kept holding Tony in his arms. He couldn't do this again. He couldn't do this... Why hadn't they noticed something was wrong? Why hadn't _he_ noticed anything? Could they have stopped this from happening?

* * *

While he was driving after the ambulance—with both Tony and Gibbs in it—Ducky took out his phone and started making phone calls, knowing that soon everyone would be there. Some of them perhaps even adopting Gibbs's driving style to get there fast enough.

When he made it inside the hospital, he wasn't surprised to find Gibbs going ballistic and basically threatening to murder anyone stopping him from going to his Agent. Choosing his words carefully enough, Ducky spoke gently, "Jethro, threatening the hospital staff is not going to do you any good. You will only be thrown out."

"They took him, Ducky..! Won't let me see..."

"If I promise to go and see if I can find out the current situation, will you _please_ calm down and wait here?"

Hesitating longer than needed, Gibbs finally nodded his agreement, much to the relief of the hospital staff who were giving Ducky grateful smiles.

"Good. Stay here and behave."

Sitting down on the floor, even though there were chairs he could sit on, Gibbs nodded again before Ducky rushed away.

A moment later the others started showing up, each in their own time, depending where they had been during the time of Ducky's phone call.

McGee had been at home, doing exactly what Tony had figured he would be doing, so he was there first. He was wearing some sort of fantasy game outfit, ears and everything. Normally it would have been a great comic relief, but this time no one would even notice it.

Abby had stormed out of the club she had been in, like a bat out of a cannon. How she had even heard or seen the incoming call, was a mystery. Her clubbing outfit was just as stare worthy as McGee's, only much more inappropriate. The moment she saw her Bossman, she hugged him, saddened by the way Gibbs didn't notice anyone. Not even her.

Jimmy had been on his way home from school and he wore that same wide-eyed expression that had been on Gibbs's face before. Unsure what to do, he went to find Ducky.

No one knew where Ziva had been, but she took twice as long coming there as the others did. She didn't say anything and went to sit next to McGee.

The clock was ticking. Time went by. Soon they had been sitting there for hours.

"Jethro," Ducky spoke out of nowhere and they all snapped out of their thoughts and turned to look at him.

Gibbs stood up. "How is he, Ducky?"

"He..."

"Please don't tell me he... That he..." Gibbs's voice broke down and for the first time the others besides Ducky saw the broken man he had become. The sight was alien.

"No, he is not, thank God. Hopefully no lasting damage was done, however, since he took so many of them, it took a while to clean up his system."

"Then what is it? What is it that you're not telling me, Ducky?" Gibbs asked, seeing the serious look on his old friend's face.

"Anthony is awake now. He is... not happy."

"Well, of course he's not happy! If he were, he wouldn't have done this to himself! To us." _To_ _me_.

"Yes, that is true... However, what I meant to say is that he is not happy that we saved him. He is sick and in pain. He has been very ill for a while, Jethro."

"What do you mean?"

"Go and see him. I will join you later with the others."

Frowning, Gibbs walked toward the room Ducky told him to go. He was relieved—Tony was alive—but at the same time he felt that painful feeling in his gut again and he knew that all was not well.

Once they were alone with Ducky, Abby spoke, with her voice trembling, "Why would Tony..? Why would he..? How could he..?"

Ducky smiled gently and sat down next to the goth, whose makeup was ruined after all the crying, and wrapped his arm around her shoulders. "I will explain this to you, and you will all promise me to not do anything I am telling you to not do regarding Anthony. Is that clear?"

"Yes," they all answered.

Entering in the room, the first thing Gibbs saw was that Tony was facing away from the door and the people in there. Brad spoke quietly with Jimmy before leaving the room, his expression grim and he barely even glanced at Gibbs.

"Gibbs is here, Tony," Jimmy spoke gently. He looked uncertain, as if he wasn't sure he could leave them alone.

"It's okay. I'll take it from here." Gibbs forced himself to smile. How DiNozzo did it—faked a smile so easily even when it should've been impossible—he would never understand.

"I'll be just outside the room," Jimmy spoke again to Tony, who hadn't said a word, and left the room.

Almost regretting letting Jimmy leave them alone, Gibbs walked to the other side of the bed and saw that the younger man was staring at some spot on the wall and he was crying silently. "Tony..." Gibbs swallowed. He was not good at this. He noticed that Tony seemed to be having trouble with breathing and there was a nasal cannula in his nose.

"Don't," Tony spoke suddenly and finally looked at him. He looked so... _tired_. And not just because he 'needed some sleep' tired, but tired as in 'I'm tired of living' and that scared Gibbs more than he ever thought possible. "Why did you find me?"

"What? How can you say that? If I hadn't found you in time... If I hadn't..." Gibbs's voice broke down and he didn't even try stopping the tears coming from his own eyes. Now was not the time for his tough guy act. This one came too close and should have never happened in the first place. "Do you have _any_ idea what it would have done to me? Had I found your body... It would have killed me. It wouldn't have been just you dying today."

Tony frowned and tried sitting up, but he was too weak to even lift his head. "Gibbs..."

"Why did you do it? You're one of the strongest people I have ever met."

"Well, that's the thing... I'm not strong..."

"Yes, you are. Now, answer my question."

"I'm tired... Can't do this anymore..."

"Well yeah, I already know that. I saw your _note_."

Tony flinched at the bitter tone. "It's... combination of... things... And then Brad tells me the happy news..."

"Ducky mentioned something about your health."

"It's my lungs, boss... Can't work as an Agent anymore... They're killing me and the work only makes it happen faster..." Tony left out the fact how it was just that last nail in his coffin, after several other things during the years. Just the last thing to finally push him over the edge where he had already been standing on.

Gibbs froze. How had he not noticed anything? _Wait_...The odd wheezing coming from the younger man's mouth lately. The teasing from the others that he was getting old...

"So you see... It doesn't matter that you saved me. I will die too soon anyway. You should have let me die without more pain and suffering."

Gibbs gave possibly the most gentle head slap he had ever given. "Don't you _ever_ say that. I want every possible moment of your life, not lose you sooner than I have to."

"Wow... Isn't that... selfish?"

"Second b for bastard." Gibbs gave a weak version of that half-smile of his. Then he got more serious again. "Tony, when you're ready, I want you to tell me everything. What brought you to this point... It's that or talking to those shrinks. If you promise to talk to me, I will make sure you don't have to talk to them. I know how much you hate shrinks. You know how much _I_ hate talking to them. Almost as much as I hate lawyers."

Tony looked away. He didn't want to talk about those things, not anymore. It was too late for that. Thinking about it all had brought him to this point in the first place.

"Hey!" Gibbs was glad when he got the attention again. He then took a deep breath and spoke the words, which were hard to speak, but needed to be said, "I'm sorry, Tony. We should've been there. _I_ should've been there. Don't do it to me..."After saying those last words, Gibbs closed his eyes.

"What?" Tony stared at him and Gibbs opened his eyes, showing the deep anguish in them.

"I have already been left behind by so many people. Shannon. Kelly... Losing you would be just as bad... Don't do that to me, Tony. Please, don't," Gibbs was pleading.

"Why would you care? Why now?"

"Because... You're... You're my family, Tony. You're the son I always wanted..."

Tony was speechless. Sure, the two of them had a long time ago shared a relationship that was how a father and son would be, but things had changed... "Aren't I a little too old now to have a father figure, Gibbs?" he whispered and tried to smile, which turned out to be a pathetically weak attempt for someone who was so used to faking a smile.

"Never too old, Tony. Never too old... Besides, look at me. I am already old enough to retire." Having to admit that, Gibbs grimaced. Finally sitting down next to the bed, he took Tony's hand in his. "Come home with me, Tony. Let us at least _try_ to fix this, to look at the options, and if there's nothing we can do or if there is, then we will deal with it. _Together_."

"There's nothing that can be fixed, Gibbs. It's too late." Too late to change all the past things. All those things still hurting him. Slowly killing him, eating him away.

"I understand, but give me one last chance..."

"It's too—"

" _Please_..."

Licking his very dry lips, Tony swallowed. Gibbs didn't say please. Ever. Yet here the man was almost on his knees, pleading and looking so desperate and anguished. He knew he shouldn't let himself be fooled by the sudden kindness, yet here he was again. Falling for it. "One chance... No more..."

Gibbs opened his mouth again, but Tony spoke first, "I'm tired, Gibbs..." He closed his eyes and both men knew what he meant.

"I know, Tony... Get some sleep. I've got your six. I haven't watched it in a long time, like you've been watching mine and everyone else's. It's something I can't change, but I promise I won't leave you on your own again..." Not that he even could, afraid that if he did, then maybe Tony would again... And Gibbs knew that this wasn't even really a start with the recovery of... everything. If anything even could be saved, he didn't know yet. This was merely a promise for a start. But for now, it would have to do.

The time went on and he thought the younger man had fallen asleep, until he heard the soft and tired voice speaking once more, "Gibbs... Thank you for... finding me..."

**_The End_ **


End file.
